


First Fight

by aroseintheimpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1813357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroseintheimpala/pseuds/aroseintheimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little domestic Destiel!</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Fight

Their first fight after getting married was a big one. But then again, don’t all first fights feel like the world is ending?

It all started out innocently enough. They were planning a fourth of July party at their place. It wasn’t going to be a big deal. They were only inviting their families (aka the family members they actually liked) and a few friends. It was about a week before the party that things went south.

They were sitting at the dining room table eating breakfast. It was pancakes that morning, a specialty Dean took pride in making as often as he could once he realized how much Cas liked them. Dean scraped his fork across the plate as he tore off another syrup-covered bite. He looked up to see Cas frowning deeply at his own plate like it had offended him.

“Problem?” he asked, as he chewed a mouthful of food.

Cas frowned at him then and shook his head before looking away.

“Well, I know it’s not my pancakes, because they are de-freaking-licious,” Dean grinned smugly.

Cas cracked a smile at that, which made Dean feel a little bit better. 

“No, it’s not your pancakes,” Cas assured him. 

There was a small grin still pulling at the corners of his mouth for a few seconds before he sighed and let the worry twist his features again. Dean could see that it was worry. He had spent the last two years since they’d started dating and six months of marriage becoming an expert at reading Cas’s microexpressions. He knew to recognize the deep frown and wrinkles on his forehead as Cas thinking about something so much that he was going to have an aneurysm if he didn’t just spit it out soon.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

Cas stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. Then he sighed, “I’m afraid you aren’t going to like what I have to say.”

Well, if that didn’t sound ominous. He and Cas didn’t argue much. There were petty misunderstandings and stupid fights, of course, but they were fairly good at resolving those. Dean still worried sometimes, though, that there would be that one fight that would send it all up in flames. He supposed ‘forever’ was something he was going to have to spend a long time getting used to. 

“Well, I don’t like you sulking either, so just spit it out so we can talk about it,” Dean insisted.

“I do not sulk,” Cas said in a way that could only be described as a pout. 

Dean laughed and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “Fine, you don’t sulk. You are a ray of sunshine 24/7.”

He gave Cas a devilish smirk which was met with a glare that gave Dean the impression he would have been dead on the spot if Cas’s eyes were capable of shooting actual lasers at him. Still, Cas settled back into his chair and stared at the table. Dean could tell he was about to give in, so he waited him out.

Finally, Cas blurted out, “I invited Gabriel to the party.”

He looked down at his coffee sheepishly. Dean groaned, dragging out the syllable as he said, “Cas!”

“I know you don’t like him, but-”

“Don’t like him?! The dude tried to drop a piano on my head!” 

Dean stared at Cas incredulously as Cas had the nerve to stifle a grin. 

“That was an accident,” Cas pointed out. 

Dean sputtered, “How do you accidentally drop a piano from four floors?!”

Okay, so it was under suspicious circumstances that Gabriel dropped Cas’s keyboard while he was helping them move into their house last year. Gabriel claims Sam threw something at him, and Sam claims Gabriel tripped. Either way, the piano went tumbling over the railing of the stairs from outside of Cas’s old apartment and would have hit Dean if Cas hadn’t been standing behind him and pulled him out of the way. 

“Well, either way, that was almost a year ago. He may be obnoxious, but he’s still my brother,” Cas said.

Dean leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “Fine, invite him to the party, but I’m not letting him anywhere NEAR the fireworks.”

Cas grinned, “Fair enough.”

Dean still wasn’t happy about the whole Gabriel situation, but he let it go quickly enough. That’s not to say he wasn’t still pouting about it a little bit the next day as he trudged in from a long day at work and unceremoniously collapsed on the couch. He was still lying there with some bad sitcom playing on the television when Cas came home with his arms full of groceries.

“Hey, honey,” Cas greeted. 

Dean grunted in acknowledgement and rolled over to face Cas and waved at him, too tired to do anything else. Cas laughed as he walked into the kitchen and sat the stuff down on the counter. He started opening and closing cabinets as he put things away and frowned as he opened the cabinet that housed their pots and pans. 

“Dean?” he asked.

“Yeah?” 

“Did you do the dishes?”

Dean pulled the nearest throw pillow over his face and peaked over the top of it at Cas, who was now standing in the threshold between the living room and kitchen with a very disapproving look on his face.

“No?”

Cas sighed. “I thought you were going to wash the dishes so that I could cook pasta tonight.”

“I’m tired!” Dean whined. “If you had to put up with fifteen 8-year-olds all day, you wouldn’t want to do the dishes either!”

“You’re the one who volunteered to teach summer school,” Cas pointed out, “and by the way, I had a rough day too. Thanks for asking.”

“A rough day doing what?” Dean balked. “Did the books talk back to you while you shelved them?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Being a librarian isn’t just shelving books all day.”

“Still easier than being a teacher,” Dean mumbled.

Cas threw up his hands and sighed. “Will you please just do the dishes while I go change out of my work clothes?”

Dean unfolded himself from the couch and sulked past Cas as he walked into the kitchen. Cas rolled his eyes as he retreated back to their bedroom.

For whatever reason, things just kept spiralling from there. Cas tripped over Dean’s boots that he was always leaving in front of the door, Dean had to throw away another empty carton of milk that Cas left in the refrigerator, Cas forgot to pay the utility bill until they were one day past the deadline, Dean didn’t buy Cas’s favorite type of fireworks, and it all culminated until they were standing in the kitchen yelling at each other two hours before their guests were set to arrive.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this?!” Dean asked.

“Because I specifically told you I wanted the _green_ ones! Just like I told you I wanted the dishes washed and your shoes put away!”

“Oh, you mean like I told you to pay the utility bill three days ago? Or like how I have been telling you for two years now to throw the damn milk carton away when it’s empty? Seriously, Cas, do you even know how annoying that is?”

“Well, if I’m so unbearable to live with, then why did you ask me to marry you in the first place?” Cas snapped.

“Hell if I know,” Dean replied testily. 

Cas’s expression switched from anger to disbelief as the words fell from Dean’s lips. Dean seemed to realize what he said after about half a second as well, because his mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide. 

“Cas, I didn’t mean that. You know I love y-”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear that right now.”

Cas left the kitchen, brushing Dean’s shoulder roughly as he passed, and slammed the door to their bedroom. Dean stared at the empty space in front of him for a moment before knocking a box of cereal off the counter and sending it flying across the kitchen.

“Damn it!” he yelled. 

He grabbed his keys and stomped out the door, slamming it behind him. 

An hour and a half later, Dean still hadn’t returned. Cas was pacing anxiously in front of the door when he heard a car pull in the driveway. He flung open the door and flew out onto the porch, where he was met with Sam’s confused face.

“Whoa!” Sam backed away, holding up his free hand. “We come in peace.”

He gestured over his shoulder at Jess, who was unbuckling their one-year-old son from his car seat behind him. Cas sighed.

“Sorry. I thought you were Dean.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Dean isn’t here?”

“No,” Cas grumbled, stepping aside to let Sam pass with the 12-pack of beer he had tucked under one arm.

Sam sat the beer down on the counter and turned around. He took one look at Cas’s irritated state and asked, “Did you guys have a fight?”

Cas tilted his head at him. “How did you know that?”

Sam laughed. “I’ve been married for three years, Cas. I know what an angry spouse looks like.”

Cas shrugged and plopped down in a chair at the table. “It was really stupid,” he admitted.

“Yeah, they usually are,” Sam agreed. He leaned against the counter. “Want to talk about it?”

“We were just yelling at each other over all these little, insignificant things, and I asked him why he asked me to marry him in the first place if I’m so hard to live with,” Cas explained.

Sam winced. He asked, “I’m guessing he didn’t take that well?”

“He said, ‘hell if I know,’” Cas replied.

Sam rubbed a hand down his face. “You know he didn’t mean that, Cas. My brother’s an asshole, but he loves you more than anything.”

“I know that,” Cas sighed. “He tried to apologize, and I was so mad that I didn’t want to hear it yet. So I walked away and he left.”

“He’ll be back,” Sam reassured him. “He probably just needed to cool off.”

Cas nodded, and Sam clapped his shoulder as he walked over to the door to help Jess with the diaper bag. About fifteen minutes later, Cas looked out the window to see the Chevy Impala parked in the driveway. He stood up and told Sam and Jess, “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Good luck,” Sam replied.

Cas nodded, and as he stepped out the door, Jess yelled, “Go get him!” 

He laughed under his breath before approaching the car with a much more solemn expression. Dean opened the door and climbed out when he saw him. Cas opened his mouth to say he was sorry, but he was cut off by Dean’s lips being pressed against his own. He gasped as Dean grabbed him and turned them around until his back was pressed against the Impala. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and clenched a handful of his blue t-shirt as Dean moved even further into his space. They finally broke apart for air, and Dean pressed his forehead against Cas’s, resting his hand against the back of Cas’s neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed.

“Me too.”

It wasn’t clear who started laughing first, but they ended up half-hugging as they leaned against each other in a fit of what neither of them would call giggles. It felt so good after the week of arguing and silent treatment that they just couldn’t stop. When Dean finally stepped back and wiped away the tears that were now streaming down his face from laughing so hard, he walked over to the back seat and opened the door. 

“Got something for you,” he said.

Cas walked around, wiping at his own eyes, and started laughing again as he saw the box of fireworks sitting in the seat. 

“You did not go buy the green fireworks,” he said.

“You bet I did!” Dean responded enthusiastically, “and you better freaking love them, because I had to drive two towns over to find a fireworks stand that still had them!” 

Cas stared at Dean, feeling like he might melt into a puddle right there in the yard with all the warmth spreading through his chest. 

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” Dean replied.


End file.
